Golden Locket
by chibiotaku4life
Summary: Not quite a crossover, this explores the idea of human souls as daemons (from the Golden Compass)
1. Prologue

Gaster muttered to himself, giggling erratically. Oh, if only he could experiment on a Determination soul - but the royal family would never have let him near their _dear_ Chara…

Around the room, animals paced or dozed in cages that were far too small for them. An dark blue lion the color of a summer night sky slept comfortably, curled up on itself like a kitten. A sloth, startlingly light blue like a morning sky, hung from a branch, barely moving. A dusky purple turtle tried to gnaw on its glass tank. A white-golden eagle ruffled its wings, letting out a harsh cry. A forest green cow mooed softly in distress. An amber-orange chihuahua yipped, jumping up against its bars.

"Quiet," Gaster roared, the cracks in his skull widening as his jaw nearly unhinged. He was very unstable - after all, monsters weren't meant to carry this much LV. It was he who had created and fine-tuned the Gaster Blasters to sever the connection between a human and their soul - how was he to know it would kill the human in the process? _That_ had been a very interesting find.

"G-gaster?" a small voice piped up, and Gaster turned and glared in that direction, eyes burning. "I - I mean D-doctor, sir!" the small yellow lizard-monster said. "We've picked up another human on the cameras.

"Excellent," he said. "Bring them to me."


	2. Book 1: Toriel Chapter 1: Impatience

Book 1: The Ruins

Chapter 1: Impatience.

Frisk pushed herself off of the hard ground, flower petals lingering in her hair. Her muscles shook, pain racking her thin frame. Stirring, Erasil bounded to his feet and used his strength to help Frisk stand, taking care to keep his horns from scraping her. She entwined her fingers in his woolly fur, taking comfort from his warm body and the soft, slow rise and fall of his breaths.

A movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention. "Erasil," she whispered, turning to look. He bleated a challenge as they saw a wolf also stirring in the corner of the room.

"No - wait," she said, - for the wolf's voice was undeniably female, "Please, I am Certa. I mean you no harm."

"A soul?" Erasil questioned. "But where is your human?" His eyes narrowed. "Do you belong to a mage?"

"No," Certa said quickly, her ears back and her tail between her legs, shying against the wall. "My human has - they are -"

"Oh-" Frisk said, stumbling forward, away from Erasil, and flinging her arms around Certa. Certa and Erasil both gasped.

"The taboo," Erasil said breathlessly.

"She doesn't have a human to hug her, so I will," Frisk said stubbornly. "They never said the taboo extended to the sundered."

Certa whimpered. "My thanks, human," she said, sounding as if she were on the verge of tears, though of course she could not cry. She hitched her front legs around Frisk, approximating the hug in return. When she let go, Frisk did as well, though she rested a hand on the wolf's head to steady herself.

The young ram's nose twitched rapidly, verging dangerously close to jealousy. Then, unbidden, his thoughts went to the fate of the sundered. How truly horrible it would be to lose Frisk!

He walked over to the two of them and nudged Certa with his horn. "Well, can you help us out of here, then?"

"I - I'll do my best," Certa said. "Chara knows - knew the underground much better than I did - do." Her ears pressed flat, her lip lifting slightly in a snarl of frustration.

"Chara?" Frisk questioned softly. "Who was he?"

"A prince among men and monsters," Certa replied sorrowfully, her haunches sinking. "I'm sorry, that is all I remember. That, and that I loved him."

"Monsters?" Frisk started to ask, but was cut short.

"Howdy!" said a bright voice, young and cheerful. The three looked to the ground to see a flower with a face smiling innocently up at them. "I'm Flowey! Flowey the flower! Golly, I heard you fall but you were taking so long I thought you might be seriously hurt. Now wouldn't that be awful?" He winked and stuck out his tongue, his tone and expression seemingly incongruous to his statement. "How's about I teach you how things work down here?"

Frisk nodded hesitantly, then gasped as Erasil warped into a small red heart in front of her. Reaching out, Frisk realized that the heart moved as she did. She gasped as she struck an invisible wall moving forward, then backward, then to each side. Certa snarled, but the sound was distant, as if through many layers of thick cotton.

"Now, everyone knows that if your physical body is too badly hurt, you will die," Flowey said. "But humans are made of pretty powerful stuff. Which is why your soul is much more vulnerable. Your soul starts off weak, but can grow strong in this form by gaining LV, which stands for LOVE! I'd be happy to share some with you!" Flowey said, winking with his tongue out again.

Frisk nodded nervously. Some small white objects began to descend towards her soul.

"These are friendliness pellets. It's how we share LOVE down here. Go on, catch them with your soul."

Frisk reached up, and her soul moved towards the snowflake-like objects. They hit, and her soul shuddered. Frisk dropped to her knees as despair suddenly overwhelmed her.

"You idiot," Flowey said slowly, his face adopting a demonic visage, his smile twisted and his eyes ruinous. "In this world, it's kill or BE killed. DIE." He laughed, a sound that seemed to echo ominously through unknown lower planes of existence, as suddenly the invisible barriers pressed against Frisk, white whatever-they-were surrounding her. The circle closed in and she tried vainly to protect her Erasil with her body, knowing somehow that in this form that would not help.

There was a small crackling noise, and a cry of pain from Flowey. Frisk shook, not knowing what to expect.

"What a terrible creature, torturing such a poor, innocent youth," a voice said, sweet and gentle as cool running water under a sunny sky. It was a voice which seemed as if it could murmur, sparkle, and dance - and Frisk realized they were no longer bowed with the weight of despair.

She looked up to see a tall, goat-like creature in a purple dress towering over her.

"I am Toriel," the creature said. "I watch over the ruins and check here every day to make sure no humans have fallen that might need my help. Oh!" she said, remembering something. Erasil turned to normal, his red fur still slightly glowing and his nostrils flaring as he breathed hard through his nose.

"You are the first human to fall in many years." She hesitated kneeling before Frisk. "I understand that you may not trust me, but please, allow me to guide you through these catacombs. As you have seen, it is not safe for a child alone."

Erasil scuffed the ground angrily with his hoof, but Certa's tail rose and her ears perked as she approached the creature.

"Two souls?" it said, acting confused.

"No," Certa said, sounding uncertain about something. "I am sundered. But -" she trailed off. "I feel we can trust her," she said to Frisk, looking back.

Erasil looked to Frisk for confirmation.

"Alright," Frisk said. "We will follow you."

Toriel smiled broadly, standing. "This way," she said, turning and starting to walk away with long strides. She turned back after a second, stopping. "By the way, child, what are your names?"

Frisk hesitated. She did not know this creature, and she knew better than to just give over her name, for names held power. "Chara," she said, blurting the first name that came into her head. Certa's head tilted to one side, her hackles raising. Something flashed across Toriel's face, so quickly that Frisk could not identify it.

"And this is Iram," she said quickly, remembering the name of the boy with whom she used to play before - The same look flashed across Toriel's face yet again. Anger? Sadness? Confusion?

"Certa," the wolf introduced herself, inclining her head.

"It is nice to meet you, Chara, Iram, Certa," Toriel said kindly. She gestured at an arched and columned doorway emblazoned with a crest at the very top. "Shall we go?"

"Yes," Frisk said, and hurried after her, deeper into the mountain.

Entry Number 1

King Asgore has requested me to take on a monumental task. Should any humans fall into the underground, I am to find a way to detach their soul so that the barrier might be broken and we be freed. The king harbors a deep grudge against humanity, but he still does not wish to kill children of any kind. He is a good and benevolent King.

Entry Number Two

King Asgore has brought me a human. They are small, their soul still shifting in form. The technique that I will use is as yet untested, merely theoretical, as a monster is too reliant on the inherent power in its soul to safely test upon. It is my belief that humans, if they are as the former prince, will be able to hold up to such a separation, being formed much more densely of matter rather than energy.

Entry Number Three

What have I done?! The Blaster perfectly sundered soul from body, but at great cost! The human has become lost, listless, unable to talk more than simple words or the most basic of phrases, and refuses necessities such as food and water. It is my fear they will die soon if something is not done. The soul itself is also changed. Having taken the form of a snail, light blue in color, it seems dazed, itself completely incapable of speech.

Entry Number Four

The human child is dead. I was unable to save them. I feel strange, awful, this new Level of Violence afflicting me, an ever-present reminder of my failure. It sits in a strange way upon me, feeling as an uncrossable distance, an unbridgeable chasm between myself and others. I must continue on, though! Monsterkind and humans alike depend on me, for if I cannot refine my invention other children will surely fall to my careless hands. I must press onward.


	3. Book 1, Chapter Two: Faded Ribbon

Book 1: The Ruins

Chapter 1: Impatience.

Frisk pushed herself off of the hard ground, flower petals lingering in her hair. Her muscles shook, pain racking her thin frame. Stirring, Erasil bounded to his feet and used his strength to help Frisk stand, taking care to keep his horns from scraping her. She entwined her fingers in his woolly fur, taking comfort from his warm body and the soft, slow rise and fall of his breaths.

A movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention. "Erasil," she whispered, turning to look. He bleated a challenge as they saw a wolf also stirring in the corner of the room.

"No - wait," she said, - for the wolf's voice was undeniably female, "Please, I am Certa. I mean you no harm."

"A soul?" Erasil questioned. "But where is your human?" His eyes narrowed. "Do you belong to a mage?"

"No," Certa said quickly, her ears back and her tail between her legs, shying against the wall. "My human has - they are -"

"Oh-" Frisk said, stumbling forward, away from Erasil, and flinging her arms around Certa. Certa and Erasil both gasped.

"The taboo," Erasil said breathlessly.

"She doesn't have a human to hug her, so I will," Frisk said stubbornly. "They never said the taboo extended to the sundered."

Certa whimpered. "My thanks, human," she said, sounding as if she were on the verge of tears, though of course she could not cry. She hitched her front legs around Frisk, approximating the hug in return. When she let go, Frisk did as well, though she rested a hand on the wolf's head to steady herself.

The young ram's nose twitched rapidly, verging dangerously close to jealousy. Then, unbidden, his thoughts went to the fate of the sundered. How truly horrible it would be to lose Frisk!

He walked over to the two of them and nudged Certa with his horn. "Well, can you help us out of here, then?"

"I - I'll do my best," Certa said. "Chara knows - knew the underground much better than I did - do." Her ears pressed flat, her lip lifting slightly in a snarl of frustration.

"Chara?" Frisk questioned softly. "Who was he?"

"A prince among men and monsters," Certa replied sorrowfully, her haunches sinking. "I'm sorry, that is all I remember. That, and that I loved him."

"Monsters?" Frisk started to ask, but was cut short.

"Howdy!" said a bright voice, young and cheerful. The three looked to the ground to see a flower with a face smiling innocently up at them. "I'm Flowey! Flowey the flower! Golly, I heard you fall but you were taking so long I thought you might be seriously hurt. Now wouldn't that be awful?" He winked and stuck out his tongue, his tone and expression seemingly incongruous to his statement. "How's about I teach you how things work down here?"

Frisk nodded hesitantly, then gasped as Erasil warped into a small red heart in front of her. Reaching out, Frisk realized that the heart moved as she did. She gasped as she struck an invisible wall moving forward, then backward, then to each side. Certa snarled, but the sound was distant, as if through many layers of thick cotton.

"Now, everyone knows that if your physical body is too badly hurt, you will die," Flowey said. "But humans are made of pretty powerful stuff. Which is why your soul is much more vulnerable. Your soul starts off weak, but can grow strong in this form by gaining LV, which stands for LOVE! I'd be happy to share some with you!" Flowey said, winking with his tongue out again.

Frisk nodded nervously. Some small white objects began to descend towards her soul.

"These are friendliness pellets. It's how we share LOVE down here. Go on, catch them with your soul."

Frisk reached up, and her soul moved towards the snowflake-like objects. They hit, and her soul shuddered. Frisk dropped to her knees as despair suddenly overwhelmed her.

"You idiot," Flowey said slowly, his face adopting a demonic visage, his smile twisted and his eyes ruinous. "In this world, it's kill or BE killed. DIE." He laughed, a sound that seemed to echo ominously through unknown lower planes of existence, as suddenly the invisible barriers pressed against Frisk, white whatever-they-were surrounding her. The circle closed in and she tried vainly to protect her Erasil with her body, knowing somehow that in this form that would not help.

There was a small crackling noise, and a cry of pain from Flowey. Frisk shook, not knowing what to expect.

"What a terrible creature, torturing such a poor, innocent youth," a voice said, sweet and gentle as cool running water under a sunny sky. It was a voice which seemed as if it could murmur, sparkle, and dance - and Frisk realized they were no longer bowed with the weight of despair.

She looked up to see a tall, goat-like creature in a purple dress towering over her.

"I am Toriel," the creature said. "I watch over the ruins and check here every day to make sure no humans have fallen that might need my help. Oh!" she said, remembering something. Erasil turned to normal, his red fur still slightly glowing and his nostrils flaring as he breathed hard through his nose.

"You are the first human to fall in many years." She hesitated kneeling before Frisk. "I understand that you may not trust me, but please, allow me to guide you through these catacombs. As you have seen, it is not safe for a child alone."

Erasil scuffed the ground angrily with his hoof, but Certa's tail rose and her ears perked as she approached the creature.

"Two souls?" it said, acting confused.

"No," Certa said, sounding uncertain about something. "I am sundered. But -" she trailed off. "I feel we can trust her," she said to Frisk, looking back.

Erasil looked to Frisk for confirmation.

"Alright," Frisk said. "We will follow you."

Toriel smiled broadly, standing. "This way," she said, turning and starting to walk away with long strides. She turned back after a second, stopping. "By the way, child, what are your names?"

Frisk hesitated. She did not know this creature, and she knew better than to just give over her name, for names held power. "Chara," she said, blurting the first name that came into her head. Certa's head tilted to one side, her hackles raising. Something flashed across Toriel's face, so quickly that Frisk could not identify it.

"And this is Iram," she said quickly, remembering the name of the boy with whom she used to play before - The same look flashed across Toriel's face yet again. Anger? Sadness? Confusion?

"Certa," the wolf introduced herself, inclining her head.

"It is nice to meet you, Chara, Iram, Certa," Toriel said kindly. She gestured at an arched and columned doorway emblazoned with a crest at the very top. "Shall we go?"

"Yes," Frisk said, and hurried after her, deeper into the mountain.

Entry Number 1

King Asgore has requested me to take on a monumental task. Should any humans fall into the underground, I am to find a way to detach their soul so that the barrier might be broken and we be freed. The king harbors a deep grudge against humanity, but he still does not wish to kill children of any kind. He is a good and benevolent King.

Entry Number Two

King Asgore has brought me a human. They are small, their soul still shifting in form. The technique that I will use is as yet untested, merely theoretical, as a monster is too reliant on the inherent power in its soul to safely test upon. It is my belief that humans, if they are as the former prince, will be able to hold up to such a separation, being formed much more densely of matter rather than energy.

Entry Number Three

What have I done?! The Blaster perfectly sundered soul from body, but at great cost! The human has become lost, listless, unable to talk more than simple words or the most basic of phrases, and refuses necessities such as food and water. It is my fear they will die soon if something is not done. The soul itself is also changed. Having taken the form of a sloth, light blue in color, it seems dazed, itself completely incapable of speech.

Entry Number Four

The human child is dead. I was unable to save them. I feel strange, awful, this new Level of Violence afflicting me, an ever-present reminder of my failure. It sits in a strange way upon me, feeling as an uncrossable distance, an unbridgeable chasm between myself and others. I must continue on, though! Monsterkind and humans alike depend on me, for if I cannot refine my invention other children will surely fall to my careless hands. I must press onward.


End file.
